


more and more, with each breath

by revengeavenue



Category: The Smiths
Genre: First Kiss, Love, M/M, Platonic Relationships, love without labels, they are happy together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 06:32:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11800404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/revengeavenue/pseuds/revengeavenue
Summary: The sun lounge was the perfect place for firsts.





	more and more, with each breath

**Author's Note:**

> this happened by accident
> 
> i love marrissey so much i'm crying

Johnny was sat in the sun lounge, surrounded by the lot of Morrissey's plants of all shapes and sizes. The trees swayed with the wind outside, creating a natural light show in the little room - shady spots becoming lighter, and vice versa. The sun weaved in and out of Johnny's jet black hair: in and out, in and out, in and out once more. He could feel its delightful warmth all over his body.

But his eyes were closed, and he remained unaware that his roommate was watching him from behind. Morrissey stood in the doorway for much longer than he intended to. He was searching for Johnny; the last place he looked being the sun lounge. Something stopped him in his tracks though, because he was stood awkwardly in the doorway, watching his roommate in all his tranquility. Blondie's 'Shayla' played softly on their turntable, creating a serene moment that Morrissey could endlessly appreciate.

It felt a little strange to be watching him like that - without him knowing. Perhaps even a bit creepy. Morrissey allowed a few seconds to pass before he took a reluctant step forward, and into the sun's warm light. Johnny quickly turned his head, his eyes catching sight of Morrissey.

"Oh, hey," Johnny said over his shoulder. Morrissey then sat down next to him on the floor, closer than most roommates would get, at that.

"Hey," Morrissey replied, seeming bleak and somewhat lifeless. His mood changed in the slightest when he felt the weight of Johnny's head on his shoulder; those little touches they shared always brought him back down to earth.

The sun was tucked behind a cloud for a moment, and came back out again before either of the two said anything else. "What brings you in here?" Johnny asked, cozying up to his roommate further.

Morrissey thought for a moment. What urged him to stop the poem he was scribbling into his notebook and walk around the tiny house in search of Johnny? Perhaps the answer to the question was simply Johnny himself. It wasn't a matter of what, but of who.

Though he couldn't say that to him - things just weren't like that between them. Not yet, at least. They were only a couple of musicians cohabiting, since being alone was much too scary, and not to mention, more expensive. They had little intimate moments, yet they were more platonic than anything. There were nights that Morrissey found himself yearning for something more than that, but he knew that he would never be the one to confess or initiate such a thing.

So in his naturally sulky tone, he replied, "Just bored, I suppose. I've grown to hate the weekend... I don't really have anything to do."

"Well, you could always spend it with me. We could go somewhere, if you'd like. Make it exciting?" Johnny tilted his head to look at Morrissey - his cheeks were the least bit flushed, and he took note of that.

Whilst thinking about what Johnny said, Morrissey unconfidently slinked an arm around him. He knew that they were close friends, and they were very close indeed, but just how close? He wanted to know how far Johnny wanted to go, if at all. He had to know.

"Yeah, we could do that. I would... I would like that a lot." Morrissey was melting inside, while a whirling sea of worry and panic stirred his stomach. Johnny wasn't drawing away - in fact, he was clinging to his side more than he ever did before. It was worrying Morrissey, since he had no idea what was coming next.

There remained stillness after Morrissey spoke, as if neither of them knew what they wanted to say. In reality, they both knew, yet it seemed too daring to say anything at all. The sun's light continued to cascade around them, warm and plentiful in that beautiful afternoon. It merely served as an excuse for the silence.

But Morrissey grew antsy, and the weight of Johnny against him only made it worse. He couldn't help but think about the fact that he _loved_ Johnny - something undeniable and true. The type of love it was, well, he wasn't quite sure of that. It remained unclear, something a little foggy in his mind.

As if he sensed it, Johnny sighed into Morrissey's side, then sat up and looked at him. "Is everything alright? You seem a little off."

Morrissey could hardly look at him, but he forced his head to turn. "I-I... I don't know what the problem is," he lied.

"You know, you can always talk to me about anything. That's what I'm here for." Johnny's voice was noticeably softer the second time around, almost like he was afraid of scaring Morrissey away. If he only knew.

After more silence from Morrissey, Johnny reached out to touch him. He flinched when Johnny's hand made contact with his face. "Hey, what's the matter, love?"

Even then, Morrissey found that he had no voice. Forcing words out, he muttered: "I don't know what to tell you."

Johnny tilted his head, confused. "What do you mean?"

A million thoughts raced through Morrissey's head, as he felt like he was being backed into a corner. His muscles ached with adrenaline, with crippling want and urgency. He acted on impulse, an unpredictable force that he usually tried to keep at bay, and leaned forward. Morrissey's lips met Johnny's lips, which earned a little gasp from him. He soon responded and kissed back, his own adrenaline causing his heart to beat in his ears.

When they pulled apart, Johnny was wearing the world's most genuine smile, and Morrissey realized there was nothing to fear after all.

-

Later that night, after they had spent hours talking, they laid down together in Morrissey's bed. Boundaries were never really important to them before, but they were even less significant to them after such an incident. They came to terms with the fact that they loved each other, and not the shallow type of love that most people found themselves in - it felt more real than anything.

Johnny's head was resting on Morrissey's chest, and everything felt like bliss. Sure, they had been close before, but now they felt like something solid, despite their lack of label. There was no need for a special word to call themselves; they just were. They were Johnny and Morrissey, two people who loved each other without the need for a label for their love.

Falling asleep slowly, but surely, with a warm glow about the room: they began to love each other more and more, with each breath.


End file.
